


Just Breathe

by Jaseish (Kymopoleia)



Category: LoliRock (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Implied iristo, may come back to it, maybe it'd get there sometime, not actually very romantic atm but, superhero au, this isn't finished but i feel nauseous so i'm posting as is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Jaseish
Summary: This was, if nothing else, Auriana's city.





	Just Breathe

The music is playing a thumping beat, heavy and thick with bass. It soaks into her bones like a chill, like a cough you can never quite shake in the winter.

Her fingers, trapped in their soft brown leather gloves, tighten around the handles of her motorcycle. She speeds up, her hair whipping in the wind.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

Auriana yanks the blanket off of her roommate. “Get up, you have a test today!”

Talia groans at her, but Auriana is already moving away.

“How are you always up so early?” Talia sat up slowly, her shirt low and her hair a royal mess.

“Magic! And coffee. Get your ass out of bed before you melt.”

Auriana steps into the “kitchen” of their apartment, hair swinging rhythmically as she moves.

Her muscles twinge under the loose long sleeve she’s wearing. She’d taken a few hits the night before, but that was nothing new. She wasn’t perfect.

She bounces up onto her tiptoes to catch the bag of sugar from the top shelf, Talia slinking into the kitchen like a harbringer of morning naps.

“Did you make pancakes?” Talia took the spatula and prodded the stack.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“You’re taking an important test today.” Auriana pulls the clip from the top of the sugar bag. “And I felt like doing something nice.”

“You… are very peppy this morning.” Talia admits, yawning into the crook of her elbow. “Sorry, I was up super late studying. I didn’t hear you come home…”

Auriana pours the sugar into the container slowly, forcing her breaths to be measured.

“I was very quiet, I knew how important this was.” She replies. Too firmly, she’d need to fix it somehow.

“Here, let me grab the syrup. Eat up!” Auriana offered the bottle, beaming.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

Auriana crashes the moment Talia is out of the apartment. She’d taken a shower when she crept through the window, her gloves under her arm and her hair pulled back in a then-loose ponytail, dripping in sweat with her eyes bright.

Nights are long, sometimes unbearably so, but the daytime? It’s never felt better to curl up under the sun each morning, bandages and ice packs on her skin to lessen the bruises.

Sometimes it gets hard to remember how she got here. The sun filtering through her blinds, her roommate happily settling into a seat at the local college with a full stomach, a few guys in hospital beds with aching bodies from her actions the night before.

Maybe it’d been when Mateo called her up, asking for some help with a gambling problem and some guys he owed money to.

Maybe it’d been when Sara begged her to bust up her abusive ex.

Maybe it’d been when Moira took her hands, shaking with bruised and bloodied knuckles, and thanked her for rescuing her from the mugger who’d almost taken her life.

Maybe it’d been when Jodan nearly died and she had to find who did it, jaw set and hoodie tight over her body, masking her face.

Maybe it’d been when she’d first bought the prototypes of her costume.

Maybe it’d been when she trailed her fingers over the soft brown whip in the eldest Sister’s room when she’d agreed to come have a coffee and talk about penance.

Maybe it’d been when she thought up a cool name to call herself.

Maybe it’d been when she decided she liked it.

Maybe it’d been when Auriana stopped being a very good catholic.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

She wakes up from a good seven hour nap, aching but well rested.

Auriana sighs and sits on the edge of her bed for a moment.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

There’s some chatter over the police scanner Auriana picked up about something new happening at the docks. Something about some bad guys that she didn’t beat up, something about something building like tension under the surface.

It felt like a rice cooker whose lid was about to blow.

She pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail. Time to get to work.

Some well placed google searches and some calls lead her to a few police reports, and more specifically one incident report. A pair of twins who’d evaded police and caused some trouble back in Chicago…

Hmm. Auriana narrowed her eyes at the words. Chicago?

“Long way from home, jackrabbits.” She whispered.

No given names, just a pair of sketches. A girl with a ponytail and bangs in her face, a boy with the 90s douche haircut and sharp eyebrows. Just nicknames, Mistress and Prettyboy.

“Not that pretty.” She hums, clicking ‘print’ sharply.

“Well, after I find you, that is.” Auriana scooches her chair back to catch the papers as they slid out of the printer.

Her and Talia shared the office, but luckily Talia never questioned Auriana’s corkboard.

She never put anything criminal up there. Just pictures.

She pins them up there, scrawls ‘Mistress’ under the girl and ‘Prettyboy’ under her brother. She regards the pictures for a moment.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

The day passes like a camera shuttering, one moment it’s there and the next it’s not. She stretches after she gets out of the computer chair, lucky that Talia would probably be out for atleast another hour. She usually went drinking with her classmates after big tests.

Good little lawyers-to-be. Auriana tightened her ponytail. She didn’t mean to sound condescending, but lately it felt like she was the only one who was able to truly enact the law. The police couldn’t always arrest, the lawyers couldn’t always convict, the prisons couldn’t always keep the wrongdoers. Just idiots coming back with court fees and bruises, right back into her open fists.

She tugs on the sports bra, the comfortable underwear and workout leggings. The thick kind, meant for boxing and mixed martial arts, not the kind that shredded like paper. She pulls on the sleeveless maroon turtleneck, sleek and breathable, that Talia had made fun of her for, and she pulls on the padded socks and ankle braces, the ones meant to keep her from twisting them on hard falls. She adds the elbow pads, the kneepads, then come the thick pants and the leather jacket.

She wasn’t looking to get hurt. But there was something going on in the nights, something only she could take care of.

She tightens her ponytail. She slips on her gloves, worn and fitted to her skin like the slip of a comfortable bra or a long sigh. She winds her whip around her waist, tucking the tip into itself the way she’d done a hundred, a thousand times.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

Auriana tightens her fingers around the gas, her motorcycle racing through the night.

The bass pounds in her soul, making her skin vibrate. Her hair whipped in the wind, and she raced past the cars on their way to the bars or to the clubs or just on their ways home.

San Francisco. The dry heat settles into her bones too, the soft breeze from the water barely wafting through the streets on the summer nights. This was her home, the good and the bad.

She squeals to a stop in front of the street her searching had led her to earlier.

She hated fighting at the docks.

A scar under her ribs twinges at the memory.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

The engine revs and Auriana rolls closer, leaning towards the bike to make herself smaller. Whatever had been building up, she’d either blow the top off of it tonight or she’d figure out how to by the end of the week. There was no such thing as defeat, just now and then.

Hiding the bike is easy, the sleek black form nondescript and forgettable. How amused her family had been when that was all she asked for when she left home, how accepting they’d been. They’d gotten her a model that was full of power but quiet, something that wouldn’t attract attention but never fail her.

Auriana tightened her ponytail. She brushes her knuckles over the seat as she steps away, creeping into the side entrance. The warehouse had reported a break-in a few weeks ago, and if she were the baddies she wouldn’t have noticed the broken lock…

Perfect. She’s in.

Auriana pulls the turtleneck over her mouth and nose, pulls her headphones out and stores them in her pocket.

There’s a back hallway with offices and a side hallway, where she entered, with some storage rooms. She’s careful as she moves, remembering the layout of the building from what she’d googled earlier, as well as experience. All the warehouses in this line were the same on their bare bones, she’d had a fun time with that before.

No goons lined the hallway or interrupted her doing whatever goons typically did, which was lucky. It was still early, barely ten, but she was still prepared for the worst.

She creeps up the stairs, heading for the catwalk over the top.

As soon as she’s up, she notices a guy on the far side, leaning over the railing and watching the pit. She crouches where she’s pretty sure he won’t see her, careful to walk on the balls of her feet so she makes as little noise as possible.

Down below, there’s three goons, dozens of wooden crates, and the twins.

“Caught you, jackrabbits.” She whispers.

They’re leaning against the crates, Prettyboy checking his nails and Mistress leaning in a shroud of shadow. Auriana knew it was her from her profile, hardly illuminated in the dim light, the tight ponytail draped over her shoulder.

Auriana listens carefully. Prettyboy starts talking, loud enough to echo.

“When did he say he was coming, Prax?”

Something whizzes by his head, a sharp movement even Auriana had trouble catching. He yelps, then stands straight and frowns at her. “Fine! Mistress, whatever.”

“He said he was coming at ten thirty.” Prax, Mistress, whatever, chides him. “Be patient, brother.”

Auriana smiled to herself, turning to go back the way she’d come, sneak up behind the guy in the opposite corner.

Thank you, Mistress, for the time restraints. Now she had about 20 minutes to kick their asses and catch whoever was trying to buy crates of whatever.

What Auriana liked about fighting crime was the cool nickname. At one point she’d saved a reporter, some blogged who lived to inform the people of the goings on of San Francisco. She’d been asked for a name to give, and the first honest thing that came to mind?

Juniper Blitz.

How cool did that sound?

It was nothing like what she actually did. Blitz implied explosions or crashing and burning, of which she participated in neither. Just using her whip, blending into the background, and fucking up bad guy’s nights. Juniper was a berry or something, she thinks, it’d just popped into her mind when she said it. Maybe she’d helped a girl get to her home on Juniper Drive or something earlier that night, but however she figured it, it was a good name.

Half of crime fighting was how the people saw you.

She wasn’t sure if they liked her or not, but by this point they atleast knew they needed her. She was low profile, very in and out, usually on the defense. All the problems that were caused were by the people who picked the fights, wasn’t her fault that they’d chosen something illegal to spend their time doing.

Auriana creeps up behind the guy, regarding him.

Stocky, pretty short but twice her width. Even with the muscles rippling down her stomach- a product of the intense workout regime her and Talia used to keep on when Auriana helped her through a bad breakup- Auriana isn’t sure she could take him without a fight.

But she had surprise on her side, as well as a kickass whip.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

The Sister had explained that the whip was an indulgence she’d allowed herself to keep from a time long ago, when she went on a missionary trip and found she had to do something to keep the people that she was living among.

The crack of the whip had sent the men running, and the Sister had stood with a stern back and kept her people safe.

Auriana undoes the whip slowly, pulling it straight between her hands.

She only had one chance to surprise him.

She gets right behind him, then hooks the whip over the front of his neck and pulls his body into her, keeping it tight. He grabs at the leather, worn from age and use, but she pulls tighter.

“Good night,” she whispers, wrapping the whip around his neck again and tugging until his face turned red.

He struggled, but she pulled him back into the hall before his wrist could clang against the railings. Somehow he was more focused on attempting to punch her in the kidney than alerting his bosses to her presence, so it was almost too easy to get him in the concrete hallway, to wrestle him to the floor and hold the whip until he went still. 

Not, like, dead still, but still enough not to get in her way.

Auriana slips back downstairs, checking her watch as she goes.

10:11. Alright, she had to make this quick.

There’s no way to get around it. She’d have to distract them, divide and conquer.

Auriana tightens her ponytail.

She drops a lead pipe as she passes the hallway leading to the main body of the warehouse, doubtless getting attention. She hears footsteps heading her way and presses herself into a corner.

Two goons walk past her, one with a gun and the other with a club. Both without seeing her.

Auriana steps out and moves her arm slowly back, then sharply forward.

The whip wraps around Gun’s torso and yanks him back. He yells in surprise, causing Club to turn towards the sound.

Auriana gets her whip back out from under him and races forward to step on his hand, the bone crunching and going limp, unable to press the trigger with aching, broken fingers.

Club rears back to swing at her, and Auriana jumps at him.

They roll as Gun starts to try to get up, leaving Auriana with her whip around this guy’s neck too and Gun switching hands.

He raised it towards her, and Auriana made herself smaller behind the dazed Club.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

Auriana’s foot connects with Gun’s face, and she blinks. She forgot what had happened, the twist of events.

Too bad.

She creeps back into the hallway.

She tightens her ponytail.

10:22

Auriana sucked in a breath.

The third goon had disappeared, likely went off to make rounds. He’d find nothing, she’d stuffed the men into supply closets for now. She glances over what she can see, the layout of the crates. There’s one nearby if she can just creep to it, but from there it’s chance and prayers that they don’t see her.

Well, not prayers. Jesus wouldn’t want to hear about this, and neither would God.

Auriana was trying hard to be a good catholic.

She takes the chance, makes it to the first crate unscathed. She can hear the twins now, talking to each other quietly.

“We should have hired more guys for this, Prax.”

“Didn’t I say to stop calling me Prax when we were on the job?”

A noise like a cuff to the back of the head. Ah, siblings.

“Shut it! I know. Still, seriously. Six guys, us, and all these guns? What if he double crosses us?”

“He needs the firepower like we need the money. Or are you going to whine about my methods?”

“I’m not whining!”

“You’re the one who insisted on law school.” Mistress, Prax, whomever, she scoffed.

“And you’re the one who turned to gun trafficking to pay for it!”

“We inherited this Mephisto.” She snapped. “Someone had to do it.”

“Yeah, back home. Here? We’re new to this game. We visited San Francisco once when we were ten to eat frozen yogurt and dick around, not prepare to run the gun trade!”

Auriana took the chance to creep to the next crate.

“Yeah, well now we’re here. I’m selling guns, you’re studying to put people in jail who sell guns, and we’re both going to look menacing for the man when he comes.”

“I still don’t get why we can’t say his name.” Mephisto, she thinks that’s his name, huffs. “Even just between us.”

“Does it matter? He pays well enough.”

Auriana creeps to the next crate. She’s on the row they’re on now, but they’re leaning on one side. If she could get behind them without getting caught…

Something they’d said does bother her, but she ignores it for now. She’d taken out three guys, but they said six. It was almost time. She wasn’t doing so hot here, so she tried to move a bit faster.

“When are those two idiots coming back? How long does it take to kill a rat?” Mistress snaps suddenly.

Auriana winces and freezes, waiting until there’s a lull again.

“Maybe they’re taking a piss.”

“We’re not paying them to piss.”

“They haven’t technically been paid yet.”

Another sound like her hitting the back of his head. Auriana creeps forward again.

She stops at the one right next to theirs, her heart beating in her chest. The crates were large, about hip height when she was standing, but if they moved at all they’d see her.

Auriana closes her eyes.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

She can do this.

She stands in a fluid movement and yanks the whip, getting both of their attentions and getting it around the boy’s chest and arms. He’d been holding a cup of something but her movement makes him drop it, an additional gasp of pain as what is probably steaming hot coffee soaks through his pants.

Amateur.

The girl ducks out of sight and Auriana yanks the boy towards her, surprised to find when he stands his ground.

She grabs the whip with both hands and pulls again, forcing all of her weight into it.

She’s grabbed from behind and shoved to the ground, barely managing to tuck and roll.

Whoa.

Mistress is tall, slim but with no attempts made to hide that she’s strong. She’s wearing a black tanktop with red trim, the same breathable material as Auriana’s turtleneck, still covering her mouth. She’s wearing heavy boots and jeans with holes in them to show the fishnet beneath.

Her hair is pulled back tightly, her bangs loose and covering half her face.

She has a stern pull to her mouth, a dark magenta pout to match her hair. Her eyebrows are sharply furrowed and her eyes, cloudy blue, narrowed.

Auriana plants her hands on the ground and catapults herself at the girl.

They tumble for a moment, but then the girl gets the high ground and slams Auriana into the ground, her hands on her wrists and those legs framing Auriana’s waist.

“Didn’t know they had vigilantes in Cali, Brother.” She calls, leaning back a bit to look Auriana over. “Remember the pink thing from back home?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He grumbles, coming over with Auriana’s whip in his hand.

Mistress laughs. “Remember how we handled her?”

“I said shut up.”

“Aww, don’t get testy.” She leans down. “He fucked her.”

Auriana jerks in her grip, the turtleneck slipping down. What were they going on about?

“I mean, he waited until he met her in a coffeeshop, then she seduced him and he fucked her. So, what are you doing here, little girl?” Mistress coos. “Think you’re tough shit? Think you’re gonna waltz in here and do whatever you want?”

Auriana rolls her eyes. “This is my city.”

“Ah, we got a hotshot.” Mistress laughs. Mephisto shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Well, little girl, it’ll take more than a whip to take me down.”

She leans in close.

Auriana narrows her eyes.

She breathes in.

She breathes out.

**Author's Note:**

> asdf i'm so sorry this is a mess


End file.
